


Hey Chris

by Burning_Up_A_Sun



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Apologies, Friday the 13th - Freeform, I'm Sorry, Jamms'Verse, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Letters, M/M, Teenagers, before cell phones were popular, before texting, let's pretend that email wasn't popular
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3088448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Up_A_Sun/pseuds/Burning_Up_A_Sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their first year at Cambridge, Mycroft's roommate (and lover) Christopher is asked to return home to Hong Kong for summer hols. He hasn't seen his parents and friends in almost 2 years. But Mycroft doesn't understand. He can only see Christopher slipping through his fingers, finding someone else. Mycroft writes Christopher to apologize for his horrible accusations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Chris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [221Btls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/221Btls/gifts).



> a very belated Merry Christmas and a Happy New year gift to my best gal, 221btls. Sherlock and John wouldn't cooperate. They wanted to be left alone on the beach and wouldn't come and play. 
> 
> This is a part of my AU, what I call the JAMMSverse. It refers to events talked about in "I'm Not Looking for Another Mistake" (ch7). I hope, if you like this, you'll consider reading more of the JAMMSverse. As I said, John and Sherlock are currently sitting on New Smyrna beach on Christmas Day getting their mind off their embryo baby--or is it babies.
> 
> The title comes from the Fall Out Boy song, Grenade Jumper, or as it's better known to fans, "Hey Chris".

June 13, 1988

My Dearest Christopher,

I know you are angry with me. You may even hate me. I am so sorry for our horrible argument today before you left for home. For the dreadful things I said.

_ Please _ read this letter. Please don’t be so angry that you tear it up, never even looking it. I want to apologize. I  _ need _ to apologize. I was wrong and horrible and terrible, and I am so very sorry.

Forgive me for the hateful things I said. I didn’t understand how much you missed your mother and father, that you haven’t seen them in almost 2 years. Even before the taxi pulled away, I knew I was wrong, that I should run to catch you, to apologize, to take back what I said. I acted like a baby because you wanted to go home to see your family and friends. All I thought about was me. That I would miss you and you would be gone and I would wither and die without you. But I’m 18, an adult now. It’s time I began acting as one.

When I withdrew my head from my arse, and thought about you instead of just myself, I understood. You left behind friends when you transferred to Harrow in London from Hong Kong. I should have realized that you must miss them terribly. Ironic, isn’t it? I was angry with you for missing them because I would miss you.

You may have guessed that I didn’t grow up with many friends. Any friends. I didn’t need or want any. Until I met you.

You are not only my lover, which is more than I thought I would ever say, but you are my best friend. I miss your voice, yelling over my head before classes start to try to get someone to listen to your opinion about ‘footie’. I miss it whispering in my ear before we fall asleep at night, wrapped together in arms and legs and a single blanket. I miss the feel of your hair on my face when you kiss me. Sometimes, when it’s too long, it tickles my cheeks and feels like gossamer. I miss your cold feet on the back of my calves when you climb into our bed. You think you’re teasing me or taunting me. I’ll tell you a secret. The touch of them is electric. It reminds that you are there, real and not a dream. That my life is perfect, because you are in it.

Right now, I’m smiling like a fool, thinking of you. But my heart is beating frantically and my stomach is in knots because I don’t know if you will ever talk to me again. Ever see me again.

I never should have said that your friends in Hong Kong are more important than I am. That they mean more to you. That you will find another boyfriend and love him more than you love me. Take him in your hand. In your mouth. Make him cry out your name as I do when I orgasm.

It isn’t your nature to betray your friends, and I know you would never do anything to hurt me. I am beyond sorry for those accusations I threw at you. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

Because, I love you.

This isn’t the first time I’ve said it to you. Do you remember when we met my parents in London your first year here? We left our bed after making love all morning, barely arriving on time at the restaurant. You said my parents didn’t need to know that you loved me. And you waited, as if I might not feel the same way.

Did you really not know that I had loved you almost from the start? But to hear you say it, I wanted to shout, to cry. All I managed was “I love you, too.” I wanted to kiss you, make love to you right there in the back seat of the taxi, but you were afraid the driver would throw us out. I hoped my smile said what was in my heart. From the look on your face that day, I think it did.

No, this isn’t the first time I’ve said I love you. But this is the first time I understand the difference between puppy crushes that children have and real proper love that lasts 50 years, 100 years. I love you.

I love you not as a child, but as a man. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Christopher. Someday, we’ll find a place that will allow us to marry and to live together openly, and we’ll live there forever. Our Happily Ever After.

I hope you can forgive me and that you will write to me once or twice before University begins again in the fall. You have the telephone number for my parents’ home; I tucked it in your wallet when you first said you might go home. If you would like to call, I would quite love to hear from you. Please. Call me.

I am, always and forever, yours.

MH  x

 

 

 

 


End file.
